He Liked Her First
by BettyBubble
Summary: Caryl AU: When a forgotten relative dies, Merle puts everything at risk to travel to Nevada and claim the inheritance left to him and Daryl. After Merle had sold everything they'd owned, Daryl had no other choice but to join him on the trip. Annoyed with Merle and the whole situation, he hadn't thought he would find anything resembling hope again, and certainly not in a cat-house.
1. Chapter 1

**I didn't plan posting here anymore ... but I thought I could need some distraction, right now and maybe others, too! This is completely AU because this is Caryl's home these days and I keep trying to create better universes for them. They deserve it. If you've read my other story "Don't Kiss" you will see, this here is some kind of short version with reversed roles but, nevertheless very diefferent. I went with the idea of soulmates at first sight, drawn to each other since the first moment they met.**

 **This is betaed by the amazing CharlotteAshmore!**

OOO

It had been something right out of _The Twilight Zone_ when they'd received the letter informing them Daniel Dixon had passed away. The brothers' first reaction had been a synchronous _Who the hell?_ accompanied by knitted brows … until they'd remembered who the man had been. Merle had hardly any memories of his uncle and Daryl had none seeing as how he'd still been warm and safe in Mommy's belly when the man had moved away.

Apparently, Daniel Dixon had had no other relatives, and thus it was Merle and Daryl who would now inherit the stranger's house. Otherwise, they never would've remembered their father had even had a brother.

"Nevada? Seriously? He must've wanted to get as far away from this shithole as possible," Daryl said when he realized where the house was located, wondering why his uncle had felt the need to move to the other end of the United States. At least, now he knew why he'd never met him.

"He wasn't like our asshole father. Mama used to say he was different … different from us. An' Pa - the ol' bastard - said his brother didn't wanna have anythin' to do with us. Said Daniel always thought he was better," Merle explained, taking a sip of his beer.

"So,' what are we gonna do now?" Daryl asked, frowning.

"We'll have to go out there, of course. It would be too difficult to sell the house from here. I don't want us to get shafted by some shady realtor who might try to make us believe it's worth less than it actually is. Who knows, bro, we might've fallen into a gold mine," Merle grinned from ear to ear.

"Do ya have any idea how far away that is? It's fuckin' Nevada!" The younger brother shook his head. "We don't even have enough money for th' gas we'll need to get there." He also had his doubts - about anyone bearing the name Dixon - the house would be more than a pile of rotted wood, no better than the crumbling trailer they already owned. Why should it have been different with his uncle? The house was probably a moldy old trailer, not worth the trip to Nevada in an attempt to sell it.

"I'll think of somethin'," Merle replied with the naive optimism which had never led them to anything good in the past.

OOO

Daryl should've known. After yesterday evening, he'd tried to ignore the churning sensation in his gut warning him no good would come from the letter they'd received, and now after his night shift at the parking garage, it wasn't any better. His stomach was tied in knots as he rode his bike towards the trailer he shared with Merle … _had_ shared with Merle. A block away, he could see his brother leaning against an unfamiliar truck - at eight o'clock in the morning - and as he got closer, he could see the eldest Dixon counting the cash he held in his hand.

The ensuing conversation was filled with wild insults and so much profanity, he was surprised the neighbors hadn't called the cops. Daryl's face was mottled with rage, beads of sweat caused by his unsurmountable fury covering his brow. Despite the exhaustion and fatigue, he still had unexpected repositories of energy to drive him. All he'd wanted to do was climb into his bed and slip into blessed sleep.

Gesticulating wildly and roaring at the top of his lungs, he just barely restrained himself from kicking the fucking truck … which was, in fact, all the brothers had left. Daryl's oh-so-optimistic brother had procured the rusty vehicle, loaded their belongings into the bed and sold the trailer. This had been, by far, the worst, most offensive and insidious thing Merle Dixon had ever done.

Merle had wordlessly taken every word of Daryl's tantrum and then loaded his brother's bike into the bed of the truck. He knew defending his momentous decision wouldn't do him any favors. And fortunately, he knew better than to goad his pissed off brother while driving and left him alone. Daryl eventually found sleep - if not rest - at short intervals in the battered passenger seat, frequently disturbed by the grating sound of the old engine and the constant reminder that such trucks had no shock absorbers.

The first motel was even more run-down than their trailer had ever been - even back when their old man had gone on his drunken binges and done his best to trash it - but Daryl took it because he had no other choice, still not talking to his brother. He'd refused to drive, as well, thinking he'd probably drive them right into a tree as tired as he was.

The second motel was only slightly better - though that was a great exaggeration - but at least the sewage pipes, which Daryl had been forced to listen to, drowned out Merle's snoring.

Daryl wasn't able to sleep at night, his sleep rhythm completely reversed due to years of pulling graveyard shifts. So, he was lying wide awake again on a saggy mattress, trying not to think about the predicament his brother had caused once again. At least Daryl had been able to call his boss - during a short break from the road - to tender his resignation. It didn't sit well with him he hadn't been able to give notice, but he hadn't been given a choice. He'd lost everything thanks to Merle's determination to uproot them and send them halfway across the country on a whim. He figured if he was to find hope anywhere, it would be in Nevada.

OOO

The rusty truck - which had no doubt made its last trip across country - was already parked when Merle hammered against the passenger side window, startling Daryl from a sound sleep.

"Hey, Darylina! Wake up! If I open th' fuckin' door now, yer gonna fall out like a wet sack," Merle roared outside the truck. Daryl hadn't even noticed how his brother had picked up the keys, using the silence for a moment to fall asleep. So, he'd been snoring quietly on the passenger seat when they'd finally reached their destination. "Ya have to look at this … it's a fuckin' palace!"

Reluctantly, Daryl pried open his heavy lids and looked out the dirty window, the sun mercilessly beating against his eyes. Merle had exaggerated, of course, when he'd said it was a palace - though it seemed like it to the brothers after what they'd left in Georgia - but it was a real house, solid and well-maintained. Seeing it snapped Daryl out of his fugue and brought him fully awake.

The impression - which the brothers already had from the outside - continued well into the inside as well. It was tidy and cozy with proper furniture and pictures on the walls. Daryl couldn't shake off the eerie feeling of being in a stranger's house as they moved from room to room with a curious and observant eye.

"Funny …" Merle stopped when he saw a photo of a baby between two other pictures hanging on the wall. "His buddy said Daniel didn't have no kids."

"What else did he say about him?" Daryl wanted to know.

"Jus' that they had no kids an' his wife died four years ago. Daniel had a heart attack, an' fortunately didn't die in the house but in the hospital. His buddy has taken care of everythin' here so far." Merle's eyes wandered back to the picture of the baby and then to his brother. "That kid looks like ya did at that age. Fuckin' weird."

"Babies all look the same," Daryl replied dryly and sauntered on into the kitchen, expecting the worst when he opened the fridge, but it was empty, as was his head at the moment. He didn't know what to think about all this … or their next move.

OOO

Daryl was told later that Hershel Greene - their uncle's friend - had also left them a legacy of four thousand dollars. Daryl wondered if his brother hadn't immediately told him because he had planned to keep it for himself, or if he really had just forgotten to mention it. Most of the time Daryl didn't trust his brother farther than he could see him, so he was glad Merle had finally confided in him about the money. At least they wouldn't leave Nevada empty-handed, the money was more than welcome to add to what they'd gain from the sale of the house. After checking out of the last motel, they'd been strapped for cash.

Lunch had been a heart attack in a sack from a local fast food restaurant before they'd found a supermarket to buy groceries to fill the fridge and pantry. It felt as if they'd begun to settle here, and as darkness fell, Daryl found himself finally beginning to relax. Something about the foreign house felt like home to him. They would stay for the time being, but they hadn't discussed if it the move would be permanent. It wasn't like there was anything left back _home_.

"I think we should go out," Merle suggested, grinning like he'd already planned this earlier.

"Are ya serious? Can't we just stay here? I'm tired as fuck!" Daryl complained.

"Ya ain't sleepin' anyway! Come on out with me … we can have a beer to celebrate our good fortune!"

Daryl could sense his brother wouldn't be satisfied with one beer and would need someone to drive him back. Even if he could live with the worry until Merle returned, he knew resistance was futile. He nodded in agreement and followed the eldest Dixon out the door. Perhaps a beer would later help him sleep.

OOO

"Darylina, yer prob'ly th' only guy on earth who don't recognize a cathouse when he sees one!" Merle was still struggling to catch his breath as he set two beers onto the table they'd chosen in a discreet corner of the room. He laughed so hard, beads of sweat broke out upon his brow. The sweat trailing over Daryl's face, however; was caused by shame. He didn't think he'd ever been so uncomfortable in his entire life.

Daryl had felt confused since they'd first entered the bar. There were more women than men, and more scantily clad than he'd seen even with the way of modern fashion. But he hadn't given it a second thought as Merle had pointed him at a table and left to get drinks. Merle had left his brother there to figure it out on his own … eventually.

"What th' hell are we doin' here, Merle?" Daryl hissed furiously.

"It's Reno! Where else would we be?" was Merle's answer. It was a given to wind up in a brothel in Nevada … at least for one Dixon in particular.

Daryl downed half his beer in one gulp. "I'm leavin' when this fuckin' bottle is empty!"

Merle shook his head. "No, ya ain't! I have nearly four grand in my pocket, an' I ain't leaving here jus' cause ya got a stick up yer ass. Ya need some pussy, an' we ain't leavin' 'til ya get some. Now, choose."

"I don't want this shit, Merle." Mind made up, Daryl got up to leave the bar, but his brother's hand shot out to grab his arm.

"Sit down," Merle said, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Daryl slowly slid back into his seat. "We been through hell for a lotta years now, but that's changin' tonight, ya hear? Now, yer gonna, by god, enjoy yerself or I'll leave ya here to foot th' bill. We clear, bro?"

Knowing he didn't have a dime to his name, Daryl wordlessly nodded and let his gaze wander, avoiding his brother's hawk-like gaze. He was well and truly trapped.

"Good boy!" He heard a return of Merle's mischievous voice and tried to wrack his brain for a way out of his present predicament.

Inspecting the brothel, Daryl was surprised by just how nice it actually was. It wasn't fancy or ostentatious, but rather cozy and comfortable, someone taking the time and effort to go for a more relaxed atmosphere. The room which housed the bar was filled with a few tables - like the one Daryl and Merle had chosen - done in a rich walnut wood, but there were also some overstuffed sofas and chairs upholstered in blue and cream striped damask. There were no garish flashing lights or loud music. Instead there was warm lighting from antique tiffany lamps and soft country music filtering from the speakers set high in the ceiling. Without the half-naked women everywhere, it would almost resemble an upscale gentlemen's club.

Young women sat at tables while others joined their guests on one of the sofas, chatting charmingly with them. Daryl would never feel comfortable doing something like that. It would put them directly into his space, and he'd find it too intrusive. Even then, his skin crawled with anxiety thinking of having to get too close to one of them.

Two women stood behind the bar, chatting and making drinks, and before he knew it, Daryl's gaze settled on them and remained. It was the first time since he'd set foot into the building his eyes lingered on a person longer than five seconds. It was fascinating, watching her.

She played with the bottles as she was making the drinks as if she'd perhaps gone to a special school for bartending. Her expression was relaxed, and she smiled, apparently enjoying her conversation with the other woman. Watching her work brought Daryl's anxiety down in an odd way, even if he didn't realize why.

"Ya see! Maybe it wasn't a bad idea comin' here, after all," Merle said when he realized his brother's interest had become piqued. "She works behind the bar, but I'm sure with the right amount of money, ya could have any woman here."

"Ya sure?" Daryl asked quietly, lost in thoughts.

"She's a bit young, but, after all, she works here. Wouldn't hurt to ask," Merle replied.

"Pfft! Not that one," Daryl sneered at his brother, a disgusted look on his face before he turned back to the mysterious woman behind the bar. He still wasn't sure if he could go through with Merle's ultimatum. As strange as he always was with women, he just didn't know if he could stand to be touched by anyone. It would be better to simply make his brother _think_ he was doing what he wanted. He could go with her and pretend to have sex with her, so Merle would finally back off and leave him alone. And in actuality, Daryl wouldn't deny he wanted to take a closer look at this woman.


	2. Chapter 2

"Uhm … I … I dunno …" Daryl stumbled over his own words and the lump in his throat. When he'd gone to the bar, the woman had offered him a bright smile, waiting patiently for him to tell her what he wanted, but Daryl lost his ability to speak the moment he gazed into her incredible blue eyes. He'd seen those jewels sparkling from afar, but they were much nicer up close, almost a near match to the azure silk dress she wore.

Her silver curls were held back, framing her face, her ivory skin - with its smattering of freckles - aglow in the dim light. It had definitely been worth it to take a closer look at this woman, but now he was at a loss for words. Quite honestly, she scared the hell out of him.

"Can I help you?" she inquired, her voice reassuring him a bit.

"I, uhm ... I have no idea how this works here," he admitted as he continued to stare at her.

"It's your first time, right? Hi, I'm Carol," she said, trying to put him at ease, her gentle, understanding smile toying at the corners of her lips. The man was so cute in his awkwardness, and the fact he was new to all this was glaringly evident.

Daryl just nodded and swallowed, knowing he was making a fool of himself … as always.

She leaned over the counter to get a little closer to him before speaking, hoping to calm the poor guy. "You don't need to be nervous. You just pick a woman you like and then ask to have a drink with her, talk to her, so you can get acquainted first. Eventually, she will lead you back to a room if you like." Carol leaned in to whisper, her hand covering his. "Just relax."

Daryl's heart skipped a beat as her delicate hand touched his, and he tried his best not to flinch. "Uhm, yeah … okay … well …" Daryl stared at her as tried to draw on his courage. The convolutions of his brain completely knotted by the sight of her cleavage, which offered itself to him as she leaned over the counter.

"Well, what?" She was still smiling at him, but her brows were slightly knitted.

"So, what do ya wanna drink?" Daryl whispered timidly, blushing more with every word. Hell, this woman worked behind a bar and he'd just asked her what she wanted to drink. He inwardly groaned, cursing his twisted tongue.

"Oh!" Carol's mouth formed the exclamation of astonishment and stayed that way.

Hiding his red face behind his hand in shame, Daryl realized she might not be one of the women available. "Shit, I'm sorry ... I thought-"

"No, it's alright Give me a minute, okay?" she stammered and blushed herself. Carol wasn't a _working girl_ and had never been one. After leaving her violent husband with her daughter a few years ago and moving in with her niece, Tara and her girlfriend, Denise, she'd desperately needed a job. Throughout the years, she had learned in her marriage how to please a man and shut herself off to endure it. She'd thought she couldn't do anything else to make money. Carol had planned to work at night, so she would have enough time for Sophia during the day while Tara and Denise could look after her girl when she would be at work.

However, the former owner - Deanna - had immediately realized Carol hadn't been the right person for this business. Instead, she'd offered her a job behind the bar and looking after the women who worked there. When Deanna had given up the establishment years later, she'd given it into Carol's more than trustworthy hands, knowing she would take good care of the bar and the women.

Over the years, there had been clients who'd been interested in Carol, but she'd always been able to get rid of them by telling them she was just the bartender. Nevertheless, the men's interest had slowly increased her self-esteem, giving her back the self-confidence she'd lost to her husband.

Only twice had she made an exception when she'd thought the men had been handsome and likeable enough. She was still a woman with needs, but still traumatized and unable to enter into a serious relationship because of her short but terrible marriage. She had thought she could at least physically enjoy and _feel_ something, but the encounters had left her empty both times.

Why she would make an exception this time, she couldn't explain herself. The man with the steel-blue eyes had looked rough at first sight, but he was so shy and insecure and ... so handsome. Maybe she'd agreed because she hadn't had sex in years and this guy was intriguing. But there was also a small spark of hope in her which made her think it could be different with him than it had been with the other men.

Eventually, Carol told a slightly astonished Beth she was going with a client, sure the young woman would manage the bar alone for a while and almost forgot to take off the apron around her hips before she left the counter.

OOO

"You didn't tell me your name," Carol said shyly when they arrived in the room. She wondered where her usual confidence had gone as she surveyed the king-sized bed with its twin night tables which matched the bed frame. A bowl of condoms and a box of tissues sat prominently on the one closest to the door.

"Daryl … my name is Daryl," he replied a little nervously.

The door closed behind them and they were alone, the music and chatter from the bar barely audible now. Sensing how apprehensive he was, Carol sat down on the edge of the bed, an understanding smile curling her lips as she waited for him to follow her. "Okay, Daryl …" she spoke softly. "Like I said, you don't have to be nervous. We won't do anything which makes you uncomfortable, but I do expect the same courtesy from you."

Before Carol had met Deanna, she'd thought prostitution to be a combination of coercion, manipulation and suffering for the women, but her former boss had taught her it didn't have to be that way. The women had always worked there voluntarily, always with the opportunity to reject any client they hadn't wanted. If a man had misbehaved, he'd been thrown out by the bouncer and received a house ban.

Morgan - the bouncer - might look harmless, but with one movement, he could put any man out of action, regardless of his stature. Deanna had always made sure the women here had been provided with a safe environment, and that hadn't changed under Carol's management. Meanwhile, even women from other brothels came to her seeking employment.

"I … I'd never do anythin' ya didn't want," Daryl promised before he approached her hesitantly and sat down beside her, alternately catching and avoiding her gaze. He was still torn between the opportunity to fool his brother and the chance to get closer to this woman. He wanted her, could feel it in the way his body reacted to her nearness, but he was nervous as hell. He hardly knew her, and he couldn't fight against a lifetime of insecurity. "I'm sorry 'bout earlier … but ya were so shocked when I asked ya. Why?" Daryl stammered, an embarrassed flush creeping into his cheeks.

"Well, it doesn't happen often anymore, clients asking for me, you know. I got older. Why should men pay for something they can get at home?" she lied, smiling sheepishly, but soon after those words had left her mouth, she realized it was the truth. As time had gone by, the clients had become less interested in her. In some way, it was a bitter pill to swallow, and until now, she'd been fine with it.

Daryl couldn't understand that. As pretty and likeable as she was, why would a woman like her work here? "Yer … well, I think … I think yer very pretty," he murmured, not even believing he'd actually had the courage to say anything. His bravery was rewarded with one of those wonderful smiles, a gesture so genuine it made her beautiful azures sparkle with delight.

Carol moved a little closer, holding their eye contact as she gently laid a hand on his thigh. Her other hand wandered along his back, feeling the muscles twitch before he leaned into her touch.

Already, Carol could feel warmth spreading through her body, the steady beat of her heart fluttering like a hummingbird's wing as it increased. This was definitely different from her other experiences with a client. "How do you want me, Daryl? Would you like me to kiss you?" she whispered into his ear before looking into his eyes again, his expression unreadable.

Of course, the topic of kissing was one of the biggest in the business. While some women generally rejected it - feeling it to be too personal - others were flexible, and some were rather picky. _Kiss or don't kiss?_ It had been a question Carol hadn't really thought about yet. She had just let her feelings decide. She didn't know where she'd found the courage to be so straightforward, but this man obviously wanted her and wouldn't reject her. Otherwise, he wouldn't have chosen her, nor would they be in this room together.

He gave her a small nod, his mind shutting off as his body craved her closeness. As Carol had leaned over the counter earlier, he'd gotten an eyeful of her well-formed breasts, and now they were pressed against his side, her body perfectly fitting to his, her warmth comforting, and the steady thrum of her heart increasing not only his nervousness, but his desire, as well.

Being so close to her, he noticed everything about her swirled around him in beautiful patterns. Her eyes reflected every shade of blue hidden within their depths, and her hair possessing nuances of silver rather than gray, shiny threads which caught the light of the lamps just right. Her freckles reminded him of a starry sky he wanted to explore, and even her scent gently assaulted his senses, a mixture he couldn't put to words.

Carol leaned in and brushed her lips hesitantly to his. He drew in a breath, his lips parting at the sheer pleasure the gesture brought him. Goosebumps erupted over his arms, a shiver tripping its way up his spine, never having encountered anything so good in his life. And it only got better as she skimmed her tongue over his lower lip before darting just the tip inside to touch his own. For the first time in his life, he let go and let himself enjoy the moment, biting back a moan when she deepened the kiss.

She pulled back with a smile, delighted by his response to her. "You can touch me if you want. Don't be afraid," she whispered, nuzzling her nose against his.

His blood ran hotly through his veins as he settled his hands at her waist, pulling her closer, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, the need for air unbearable, but her deft little fingers toying with the top button of his shirt sent him spiraling into panic. She made him feel so good, gifting him with a touch which brought only pleasure instead of pain, but it was too much, too soon, and he didn't know how to handle it. Never before had he been so afraid of something he'd wanted so badly.

"I … I cain't!" he gasped, wrenching himself away from her touch, her closeness, as he sprang to his feet. He fought for breath, trying to regain some control over himself before he forced himself to look at her. Her expression bordered on confused, but he could see the questions in her eyes, turbulent pools he knew would haunt him.

"I'm sorry, I ... did I do something wrong?" Carol asked cautiously as she got up herself, crossing her arms uncertainly over her middle as if to protect herself.

"No, I … well … the thing is … my brother brought me here," Daryl began to explain in despair as if his life depended on it. "This here … I don't want … but he expects me to … goddamnit! I'm so sorry. Cain't we just say we did even if we didn't? I want him to leave me alone with this shit! I … I mean, you'll still get the money." He hadn't wanted to sound so harsh, but the panic building behind his breastbone was practically choking him and robbing him of his good sense.

A sudden wave of shame washed over Carol. Shame and disappointment. She'd actually allowed herself to believe he'd wanted her. That this was obviously not the case hurt her badly. He didn't want to be with her, but rather just wished to have his brother stop trying to force him to have sex. His words of rejection had been harsh and to the point, no room for misunderstandings. "No, it's ok," she hugged herself more tightly as she replied. "I won't take your money. I uhm … I wanted to take a break anyway. So … I don't know … we could stay here until enough time has passed," Carol suggested softly, trying to keep her tone light instead of weighted with the wealth of her true feelings. She picked up the phone on the night table and pasted a false smile on her lips. "I'll call Beth and have her bring us a drink. What would you like?"

"Beer, I guess," he murmured, glancing at the clock. It would be the last thing he said to her that evening, his tongue as twisted in knots as his stomach. She didn't utter a word either, simply sipping her drink the little blonde had brought as they waited for enough time to pass before they could leave the room. This woman - whom he admired so much but hadn't dared let her come closer - whispered a soft goodbye as she watched Daryl leave the brothel with a grinning Merle.

OOO

Of course, Merle had begun to give him shit from the moment they'd left the bar. The innuendo and blatant teasing had continued through the drive back to the house and hadn't let up until Daryl had stormed into _his_ room, slamming the door behind him. His brother had wanted to know everything about the shape of her body and whether or not Daryl had made her scream … every dirty detail which _hadn't_ happened, but Merle believed had. It had been unbearable! Daryl had avoided every question, telling Merle it was none of his business until his brother had finally left him alone.

The next few days, realtors descended on them to look at the house, and they all suggested the same price, surprising the brothers as to how much the property was worth. Merle was still wondering which realtor he should go with to put the house on the market while Daryl had his doubts - for some unknown reason - as to whether or not they should sell the house at all. He could easily imagine staying and settling there in Reno, and though Merle didn't know, Daryl was already scanning the classifieds for a job.

That was how a routine seemed to sneak up on him as the days passed into a week. Merle was always on the move while Daryl slept the day away, unable to shake years of being a night owl. It seemed his brother had come to accept going out alone after that first evening, never forcing Daryl to again go with him. Merle had even split the money with him, so Daryl had his own wallet filled, and he didn't have to worry about Merle putting them into the poor house again. His older brother would probably run through his money soon enough, but at least Daryl had some kind of control over his own future.

Tonight, Daryl was alone again, lost in his thoughts which inevitably drifted to the woman from the brothel. Wondering why he constantly seemed to dwell on her, he couldn't help but feel the gnawing ache of regret. He could've had her, but he'd let his fears ruin the moment and he cursed himself for being too cowardly to take a chance. He'd stunned her, but he hadn't realized that until much later. At first, he'd thought she might've been glad she hadn't had to do her job, but she hadn't taken the easy money and then she'd seemed ashamed because of his rejection.

Remembering her telling him clients were no longer interested in her, it made his stomach churn with regret for his own actions. He'd pretended he had only feigned his interest, but … gawd, how he'd wanted her. He'd never found a woman so beguiling, one who made his fingers itch to touch her soft skin and pull her closer to nestle against his body. He shivered, electricity crackling along his spine as he remembered her kiss.

The woman - Carol - could've been _his chance_ , but instead he'd fucked it up and gambled away the opportunity to get closer to her. She'd never forgive him for that betrayal … would she? Without thinking about it, he rose from the sofa, determined to take a shower and go out tonight … with his brother none the wiser.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you, to the guest for the review! :) I appreciate any feedback!**

 **OOO**

Carol stood behind the bar just as she did almost every night. It was running well, and, in fact, she couldn't complain. Beth had gotten better and better working with her and Carol was relieved. Frankly, the young woman had been just a hair this side of useless when she'd begun working there two years ago.

Things regarding the business might have been good, but Carol had a severe case of the blues she just couldn't seem to shake, unable to get the man - who'd played games with her the other night - out of her head. She'd been so sure he'd been interested in her, only to have him turn around and push her away. She still felt ashamed she'd let him play her like that. Carol was glad she hadn't had to see him again, and had fallen back into her normal routine where the clients left her alone.

She already had enough on her plate since hiring Rosita. The woman had most of the clients wrapped around her little finger, but the other ladies were jealous, losing clients to the stereotypical Latina. More than once Carol had been forced to break up a cat fight. Sasha, especially, couldn't stand the new woman. Something of this nature was bound to happen in such a business, and she could only hope everything would work out for the best. Otherwise, the new girl would have to be relocated, and Carol didn't want to let go of the increased revenue she enjoyed from the extra customers the girl seemed to draw in.

Carol grinned as she placed two Long Island Iced Teas on a serving tray, knowing no matter who drank them, they'd be suffering a massive headache the following morning.

"Hey … ya like this stuff? I had one once. Worst hangover ever," came a familiar voice. She felt her hands tremble, the glasses on the tray rattling as her gaze drifted slightly down the bar. His smile was shy but warm, a blush creeping into his cheeks and the tips of his ears as she met his inquisitive eyes.

She averted her gaze. "I know it's not ladylike, but I prefer beer," she replied, trying to appear as relaxed as possible. She turned to the glasses which were piled high in the sink, waiting to be washed. She was annoyed by this man who was probably there to pick another woman, and Carol wondered what she'd done in a past life for her present one to be so cruel. Couldn't he have gone to another brothel? Reno was filled with them!

"Then I'll take two beers," Daryl murmured, a quaver in his voice belying the confidence he tried to impart. He had already messed with her, so he couldn't make it worse, could he? He'd summoned up all his courage to go to that bar, and it took even more guts now to actually talk to her.

Looking up, she briefly let her gaze wander around the bar before her eyes narrowed on him defiantly. "Where's your brother?"

"He ain't here," he smiled softly. "Two beers, please. One for you an' another for me." It sounded more like a peace offering than an order for drinks.

Tossing the dishcloth away angrily, Carol approached him, leaning onto the counter as her piercing eyes caught his gaze. "What the hell, Daryl?"

"I … well ..." Again, he started stuttering.

"Bethie!" Carol called after the blonde girl. "I need to step away … will you be able to manage on your own?"

The young woman nodded, and this time Carol didn't remove the apron she wore over her red cocktail dress before she went into the room with him. The sharp way she closed the door made it clear to him not to bother asking for another chance with her.

She stood in front of him, her arms folded, and it was obvious she wasn't in the best mood. "What do you want? I can give you at least ten addresses for other brothels. You could've gone somewhere else, so why are you here?"

"I'm sorry!" Daryl cleared his throat. "The last time I was here ... how I behaved ... that was stupid," he tried to apologize to her.

"So, you're just here to apologize to me?" she interrupted him, hands planted angrily on her hips as she glared at him. "Fine! You did that, so you can go now."

He stood there defeated, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he sought for words to make her understand, but he realized he'd already made it worse by coming back.

"This is _my_ bar, and I'm asking you to leave. If you won't, I'll get my bouncer to escort you out," Carol warned.

"I-"

"What?" she inquired, her skin flushed from the anger simmering just beneath the surface. "What do you want from me?"

"Yeah … I did want to apologize, but I also want to … I wanted to ask ya if we could … " He sighed, cursing his inability to make himself clear. "I want a second chance … if ya can forgive me. It wasn't only about foolin' my brother. I was so nervous an … hell, I ain't never done this before!"

"You already said that, and I was really trying to help you with your nervousness, but …" She was at a loss for words. Why was he making it into such a big deal? Many clients were nervous on their first visit to a brothel, but Daryl had been extremely tense - on the verge of a panic attack if, she wanted to be honest - in the way he'd behaved last time.

"Ya don't understand," he shook his head. "I've never …" Daryl couldn't bring himself to even look at her, struggling to force the words out. For years, he'd even fooled Merle, never telling anyone about his shame. Telling her - a practical stranger - had been hard enough, but he'd sensed she wouldn't make fun of him. Hopefully, she wouldn't. For fuck's sake, he was a forty-one-year old virgin!

"Never?" Carol squeaked, her eyes as wide as saucers. She found it hard to believe. The guy was at least thirty-five and damn good looking. Surely, someone … had he been hiding under a rock or incarcerated for decades?

He shrugged. "I had opportunities, but I'm terrible with women … with people in general, to be honest," Daryl tried to explain, his voice holding a note of bitterness. "Cain't help the way I am."

"Why now, though? Why me? You've waited this long, so why should it matter if you wait a little longer until you meet the right woman?" she asked softly. Carol didn't understand why he so obviously wanted to experience his first time with a woman like her … a _paid_ woman.

Daryl snorted bitterly. "Like I said … I'm uncomfortable with women. I don't really have hope that'll change."

"And you're thinking it will be different with me?" she asked in confusion.

He watched her steadily as he tried to collect his thoughts. He didn't know why, but somehow, he sensed she would understand him. "Yeah, I was … I _am_ nervous with ya, but in a different way than I was before with other women. I think … I _feel_ … I feel at ease with ya, an' that ain't somethin' that's ever happened to me before … with anybody. And I've never wanted a woman before but I … I want you."

She wouldn't admit - even to herself - she felt the same way towards him. The mere thought made her feel strange. Slowly, Carol took a hesitant step towards him, checking to see if her touch would still make him flinch. Hesitantly, she reached out and laid a hand on his chest, directly over his heart, and as she had known, he jerked briefly beneath her touch, his breathing irregular. "You can't even stand for me to touch you, so how's this supposed to work?" she whispered sympathetically as she pulled her hand away.

"I want it with ya … I _do_ ," he answered, reaching for her hand and bringing it back to his chest, placing his own over hers. And this time he didn't flinch. Instead he drew in a deep breath and held her gaze, leaning into her small hand and giving himself into her care. "I trust ya not to laugh at me or judge me 'cause I've got no clue about nothin'" he admitted, blushing. "I like ya, an' I … I don't like most people."

One step closer and their bodies touched, one hand lingering over his steady heartbeat as the other dared to run gently along the side of his face. This would be something special to him, and Carol thought it would be equally momentous for her. She felt honored he wanted her to be his first. "Whatever we do … I don't want you to grab me or hit me. I'm not into that." It was important to establish a bit of trust between them.

He shook his head in horror. "No, I couldn't do that ... never!"

"Good," she crooned softly, her fingers finding out just how soft his hair was as they carded through the strands at his nape. "And not only will you tell me what you like, but … what you don't like. I want you to enjoy this, Daryl."

Daryl nodded, knowing from now on there would be no more misunderstandings. "I'd like it if ... if ya would kiss me again," he whispered, his eyes half closed, the tentative touch of her soft lips over his causing the breath to hitch in his throat, the first stirrings of excitement coursing through him.

It didn't take them long before the shy touch of their lips turned into a real kiss. The way he understood her slightly open mouth as an invitation and ran his tongue over the seam of her lower lip -before cautiously moving further - made her realize once more that, while he was still restrained and uncertain, he must've done this before. Or at least that's what she was thinking because it felt undeniably good, too good. This was different from the kiss they'd shared before, more intense, and she could feel his courage increasing as he responded to her.

She met him eagerly, opening up for him as he conquered her mouth, exploring her completely. He was observant and attentive, paying close attention to how she reacted to him. His hands moved restlessly on her hips now, touching her shyly as he clung to her and the tightening of his body, which she felt on her lower belly, left no doubt he really wanted her.

Only the desperate need for air urged her to break the kiss. However, the need swirling in her belly spurred her own as she discarded the apron she wore and tossed it aside before she reached for the buttons on his shirt.

This time, he was calm instead of panicked as he brought his hand up to cover hers. "I have … I have scars, jus' so ya know. I don't want ya to be shocked. Are ya okay with that?" he asked, wondering if she'd be as understanding as he thought she'd be.

Carol nodded with a compassionate smile. "And I have … stretch marks." Now she was the one who was blushing. "Does that bother you?"

"Don't matter to me," he said, sighing softly. Of course, it wouldn't bother him, and, in fact, brought him a sense of relief to know her body wasn't perfect … to know she, too, had flaws. If he could accept her imperfections, she might also accept his.

Slowly and carefully they undressed each other, accompanied by the sound of their breaths and the rustling of the material, the chatter and music from the bar far away in the distance. Every single garment fell, except for their underwear, and only occasionally did their uncertainties make their movements hesitant.

Daryl studied her, his eyes wandering admiringly from head to toe and back, until his fingertips dared to touch her, feather-lightly running over the fine lines on her belly. "Yer so pretty ... so beautiful," he whispered, his eyes locked with hers.

Taking the first step, Carol moved closer and when Daryl then felt her soft body warm against his and her hands trailing his back, much of his nervousness dropped away from him. Again, she sought his mouth while his hands began to explore every curve of her slender form. Never had he thought a woman could feel this soft under his rough hands, and even the touches he received from her felt better than he'd ever expected. There was something about her which was calming, and her touches carried a warmth Daryl couldn't describe.

Her delicate hands on his scarred body caressed rather than fumbled. They didn't scan his scars, touching him as if they weren't even there. She didn't ask, and she didn't push; instead, she gave him a sense of security. He felt safe with her, cherished. The ugly reminders which littered his body made no difference to her, nor did his past. There was only the present, the here and now. No questions, and no need to explain.

She reveled in his heat, the way his muscles played beneath his skin, and the tightening of his body as their kisses grew headier. Taking the lead, Carol decided to slowly move their foreplay to the bed, the warm waves in her lower belly making her impatient. She shouldn't … _didn't_ … want to expect too much from him. He was a client and he had no experience despite her body's demand for more.

Eventually, lying tangled on the mattress, Daryl found himself hovering over her, trapped between her thighs as his throbbing erection pressed against her silk-covered core. Urged by his needs, he roughly kneaded her breasts, his face buried between them as his tongue tasted her freckles and the salty sweet ambrosia of her skin. At the mercy of his lust-crazed body, Daryl lost all sense of reluctance, shyness and patience, but he knew he needed to slow down before he came in his boxers like the inexperienced virgin he was. He had no clue as to what he was doing, but the thought he might be hurting her helped to cool his arousal.

So, he released her hesitantly, breathing excitedly as he put a little distance between them, moving his heated body only a little bit away from hers, unable to force himself to break the contact completely. "We have to slow down ... need to know if I'm doin' this right."

Carol bit her kiss-swollen lower lip as she watched him, relieved he was really trying to make it good for her, or rather using her as his teacher. "You want to learn, right?" she whispered, knowing these first experiences he would share with her would shape all future encounters for him. Carol would prepare him for other women he might let come closer. She would just open the door for them.

"Yeah, I wanna learn what ya like," Daryl moved a little closer again, his member now pressing against her hip as he began to trail his fingertips over the smooth skin on her belly before gently caressing the underside of her still covered breasts. "Like this?"

Meeting his eager gaze with a look of askance, Carol straightened up to slowly take off her bra before she resumed her previous position and hesitantly reached for his hand. "Don't touch them too roughly," she whispered, a small smile teasing her lips. His touch was feather-light, a contrast to the deep concern she could see in his gaze. "Don't worry, you didn't hurt me. They're just sensitive … especially here," she explained, her soft words ending in a soft moan as she felt his touch, another wave of heat singing through her veins.

The moment Daryl's eyes caught her bare breasts, he nearly lost his mind. They were neither too small nor too big. They were perfect, beautifully shaped with rose peaks he wanted to touch so badly. Her invitation to do this had been more than welcome and it increased his arousal to follow her direction and have her show him what she needed. The moment he touched one of the peaks, it hardened under his thumb and he bit back a curse. Her body twisted and writhed, a sweet sigh reaching his ears, and Daryl was completely under her spell.

Without a thought, he continued to touch her, the stroke of his fingers becoming bolder as he moved his lips to her other breast, giving a little flick to the bud with his tongue. Gently, and then with a little more pressure until he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked. He was intrigued by her reaction, enjoying the sight of her closed eyes and parted lips as little moans of pleasure escaped her throat. Hell, he wanted to learn _everything_ about her.

Carol realized if she showed him the direction, he would continue on the right path. Unlike other men, Daryl hadn't taken on any habits of other women he could try with her, but he was attentive and observant as he began to read Carol and her body. The way Daryl explored her was agonizingly slow now, but also intense, just the right pace for both of them. Sensing the unbridled passion in him, she knew it was better to start slowly. The moment before, when his touches had been clumsy, she'd been about to timidly stop him, but he must've felt he'd needed to calm down on his own.

One hand delved deeply into his soft strands, gently holding him where she needed him to be, his hot mouth scorching fire over her flesh, the other reaching for his own hand to pull it away from her breast. She guided it lower to the last area of her which remained covered, urging his fingers beneath the silk and gasping as his calloused digits skimmed over the warmth and wetness of her waiting core. He set her entire being aflame, leaving her waiting to be consumed.

The first contact of her wet folds with his exploring fingers made them both hiss and she pulled her hand away, leaving him to discover for himself what she needed without her assistance. It gave Carol freedom to move her other hand onto his back to hold him while he touched her, pressing her lower body against his questing fingers while she too felt his throbbing arousal hard on her hip.

Daryl wanted to kiss her again, tasting her sweet whimpers on his tongue as he touched her. He had already heard and seen a lot - and how couldn't he have learned the basics after listening to his brother's exploits for so many years - but how soft and wet a woman could be exceeded all imagination. Lost in the sensations on his tongue and the warm wetness on his hand as he pressed his lower body against hers, his movements became erratic. Unable to control his body, he let go without warning, coming hard before she'd even touched him there. Carol had taken all self-control from him and left him a quivering mass of feels.

He drew his hands away from her as if he'd been burned, straightening up and sending a shocked look down at the wet stain across the front of his boxers. "Shit, that was … I told ya, I –"

A small smile formed on her lips and she pointed to the box of tissues on the nightstand. "It's okay, we have time," she whispered understandingly.


	4. Chapter 4

Gratefully taking the box, he glanced once again at the mess and turned away to clean himself up. "I still feel embarrassed," he mumbled. Feeling her comforting hand on his back, he felt even more ashamed, a blush riding his cheeks as sweat beaded his forehead. Pity was the last thing Daryl wanted.

She pressed her upper body against his back and whispered in his ear. "Just take them off … the boxers, take them off."

Reluctantly, he turned his head in her direction, but she was already moving away to discard her last item of clothing. He did the same and shyly moved to lie next to her. He wouldn't allow the intense urge to dress and flee overwhelm him now. Something, in which he couldn't explain, drew Daryl to this woman and she was more important than his fear.

They were naked now, facing one another as Carol ran a reassuring hand through his hair. "We could stop … or keep going if you want, and … there's no reason to be ashamed. There's more to it than just … you know? There are so many ways to make a woman come while you …" She glanced down between his legs, his member impressive even where it lay flaccid against his thigh, " … take a break. Of course, only if you want to."

"Show me how," was all Daryl got out before she moved closer and claimed his lips for a kiss which slowly but surely increased in intensity. She wrapped herself around his trembling form, providing a warm cocoon of security just for him, and he began to relax. Her taste on his tongue, her incomparable scent and the luxurious feel of her soft skin on his let him forget his previous embarrassment.

Again, she led his hand to the apex of her thighs, where her warmth beckoned to him, arousal and anticipation having left her slick and quivering with need. Her body called to him, breathy little moans and gasps, trembling signs of the pleasure he wrought as he touched her, fingers brushing where the height of her sensitive nerves converged in a small button. He circled it eagerly with his fingertips until he dared to gently explore further, learning how to fulfill her every wanton desire.

She couldn't bring herself to be ashamed of being so wet. In fact, she couldn't care less. Never before had Carol been brave enough to show what she wanted in such a blatant way, what her body needed. What she knew from the few experiences she'd had with the opposite sex was that men just took what they wanted with little care for their partner's needs, thinking they could satisfy a woman without exploring her. With Daryl, however; everything was new, and she began to release the firm grip she retained on her closely-guarded self-control, opening up to him more and more as she clung to this stranger who felt so oddly familiar, so close … not only physically, but in all ways.

The sound she made was nearly obscene, moaning into his mouth with abandon as he kissed her hungrily, seeming more than capable of what he was doing. Carol had heard of musicians who could play a song after hearing it only once, and Daryl was no different, hearing the melody of her body and creating his own composition, one which sang only for the two of them.

Unable to wait any longer, Carol reached for his turgid length, her touch causing him to moan as his flesh grew harder. The skin under her fingers was so soft and unbelievably sensitive over a steel core, and as his fingers cautiously entered her and merged with her inner walls, she had to force herself to loosen her grip on him. She was too afraid she'd hurt him with the way her body already shook, her other hand now desperately clutching the sheets beneath her in a death grip.

She whimpered, her body twitching and arching as her mouth formed a silent scream. She absorbed his touch, her irregular breaths morphing into an attempt to gasp for air as Daryl watched her in disbelief. "Are ya … did ya jus' …" he asked softly, still trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. His only answer was a nod and a smile, her cheeks flushed as her hand came to rest on his chest. He noticed his own heart was racing, too, and a sense of pride flooded his heated body, his lips reflecting her smile.

"On the bedside table behind you," she whispered and at first Daryl didn't understand what she meant before he reflexively turned around. Previously lost in her warm eyes, Daryl immediately missed the connection to her.

He understood when he saw the decorative bowl filled with condoms there on the nightstand, and another wave of arousal, strangely mixed with fear and shame, made its way through his body. "We don't have to," he began, instantly reconnecting his steel blue gaze with her azure. In an odd way, Daryl was already satisfied, though parts of his body demanded more. However, he didn't want her to feel forced, knowing she was spent.

"Hand one to me. I want it … I want to know how you feel," she whispered, her gaze filled with genuine desire as she looked down at his erection, a small bead of moisture at its tip. The size of him elicited her anticipation, but also a pinch of fear. Did he even know how well equipped he was?

He moved away from her for only a moment to reach for a small foil square, placing it hesitantly in her palm and hoping she didn't notice the trembling in his hands. "I think ya can do it better," he said, looking down at himself, moving his body slightly so she could reach his sensitive member.

"Relax … it's alright," she crooned softly, wanting him to calm as she ran her fingertips reassuringly over his temples. She held his gaze as she opened the small package, slowly and deliberately and slid the condom over his length.

Supporting himself on trembling arms, he gave her space to move and then she was lying beneath him, her eyes open and trusting, just like her body, flushed with desire and ready to receive him. She gently pulled him to her for a kiss which tasted like so much more than it should have under these circumstances.

Daryl had often heard the first time should be a unique experience with someone special, unless your name was Dixon. Merle had had no problem disabusing his brother of that silly notion. Sex was sex, and he'd made sure Daryl knew it. Even if Daryl had been able to accept another's touch - physical contact always having been anathema to him - it had all been a fairy tale … until now.

"Look at me," she commanded softly when she zeroed in on his narrowed eyes. He lay between her legs now, but his entire body was taut with tension. Mindfully, she let her delicate fingertips glide over his back as she continued to breathe soothing words into his mouth. Still, she wondered how insecure he was and how she could soothe him. Feeling his scars, she could tell he'd suffered some time in his past, but she wouldn't ask about them, as it was, after all, none of her business. He was so handsome and well-formed, but what had really caught her attention had been something else entirely, a mixture of his low-graveled voice and the soul-deep pools of his eyes and what lurked within. Why he hadn't ever gotten closer to a woman, she couldn't explain.

His body was slow to relax, the blood in Daryl's veins molten as he felt her hands roam his back and give his hip a gentle squeeze. A guiding hand moved from his back to his cock and he let himself lean into her touch as she led him, closing his eyes as he gave a tentative thrust. The unbelievable softness and warmth his fingers had already explored now wrapped around his cock as he entered her cautiously, careful not to hurt her. His eyes clenched tight, his breath harsh, his pleasure unimaginable as her tight heat enveloped him.

A mixture of pure pleasure and sweet pain went through her core as he slowly slid into her, filling her more with each careful movement. He was reluctant, but she was sure he, too, felt her craving that connection, her core sucking him in deeper and deeper.

Daryl moved, driven by his feelings, his mind blissfully numb. She spread her legs wider for him, allowing him to go deeper as her hips met his thrusts, the rhythm now steady while her soft sighs of pleasure became more and more pronounced. She clung to him, her slender arms banded about his shoulders, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Again, he closed his eyes, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, worried awkward noises might escape him, but Daryl was powerless to prevent the deep grunts from fighting their way out of his throat. She just felt too incredibly good.

Again, and again, he hit the spot which sent an intense tremor through her entire body. Everything below her belly button burned with desire as his thrusts got deeper and faster. Pulling out almost completely to dive back into her wet silk, she missed the absence of his cock every time, but only to almost burst with anticipation as he filled her again.

Daryl felt his body develop its own will, the tightness of her warm soft walls becoming unbearable as his movements became frantic, but as he began to tremble, he also felt her shivering beneath him. They were clinging to one another, their bodies becoming one as they moved, the fine layer of sweat on their skin mingling. Eventually, a deep grunt mixed with an almost sharp scream filled the thick air.

As Daryl finally regained his senses, he couldn't help but notice her closed eyes and parted lips as she fought to return her breathing to normal. He admired her flushed skin, glistening with a fine sheen of sweat as Carol seemed lost in a haze of pleasure. He'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

Tasting the smile on her lips as he kissed her, Daryl couldn't help but smile himself, unable to remember the last time he'd felt so good and free with his body and his mind. Never before had he allowed anyone to get this close to him, the presence of other people enough to send him into a panic attack, especially women.

Still enjoying the intimacy of her embrace, he had to remind himself to forget where he was, how he'd gotten there and why this woman had done this with him as he fought the shame creeping upon him which screamed that he'd used her for money. He wasn't like that, damnit!

"Hey … are you okay?" Carol asked softly, noticing the genuine smile on his lips had given way to a serious expression. She was asking herself if it was actually sad she'd had the best sex in her entire life with a client who'd been a virgin, a man who wouldn't come back because her deed had been done. There was so much she wanted to know about him, but so little she needed to ask, sensing the more time they would spend together, the closer they would get to reading each other without audible words.

"I just … uhm," Daryl mumbled as he looked down where they were still joined and the following procedure of pulling out of her an getting rid of the condom left him awash in embarrassment again. Seeing Carol moving to hide under the thin covers, he just didn't feel like leaving this bed with her, so he felt only a brief moment of hesitancy before climbing under the sheets with her. Her body was still covered in a thin layer of sweat, but she welcomed him, molding into him like he was sure wasn't standard for this business.

OOO

Even before Carol opened her eyes, she knew something was gravely wrong. The ache of panic, a tightness she knew all too well, clawed at her breastbone with the realization that … she'd fallen asleep.

 _Oh, my god! Sophia! Fuck! The bar!_ As if those thoughts weren't enough to send her sprinting around the room to the tune of 'Flight of the Bumblebee', the warm body of the man pressed so intimately against her back surely would. Frenetic, panic-driven energy jolted her from the bed to frantically search for her clothes. A loud rumble followed quickly thereafter, the first sounds of life to greet her ears that morning.

Eyes finally open, even the heavy blackout curtains couldn't disguise the fact night was over, and Carol's whine of frustration at her own stupidity was almost louder than the man groaning on the floor. _Crap!_ She'd thrown Daryl out of bed in her haste to flee.

"Fuck! What the –" she heard him mutter as he stretched his aching limbs and sat up to stare at her over the width of the mattress, his eyes widening when he, too, realized he'd overstayed his welcome.

"Oh, my god, I'm so sorry," she frowned as she slipped, half covered with the sheets, to the bedside and looked down at him. "Are you hurt?" She brushed her hand over his shoulder as the words spewed from her in a frantic rush.

"No, everything's a'right ... ya just startled me. Holy Christ! Did we -" Daryl was still not completely awake when the sunlight, which was creeping through the curtains, stabbed at the corners of his eyes. He'd _slept_?

"We fell asleep! Are you really okay? I have to go to ... my daughter ... the bar!" Carol wanted to be everywhere at once, and one part of her wanted so badly to stay in bed with him.

She saw his nod as he straightened up and moved his tired body to sit on the bed, apparently still trying to get his bearings. After she was sure he was actually all right, she got up quickly but reluctantly to dress as fast as she could, however; the sight of him made her pause for a moment. Admiring the beautiful man with his disheveled hair, who was still sitting on the bed - half asleep - her cheeks blushed, not only out of stress, but because of the memories of last night.

"Yeah, everythin' is a'right. We fell asleep? I fell asleep?" He shook his head in disbelief.

"Yes, I think so," she giggled lightly as she pointed to the clock on the nightstand, revealing it was past six in the morning. "Usually, I never sleep at night, not even when I have a few days off. I always work at night," Carol explained.

Since Carol had moved in with Tara and Denise, it was her habit to make breakfast for everyone after coming home from work before taking Sophia to school. Only then, would she make her way home and sleep. At fourteen, Sophia rode the bus home from school to spend time with her mother before Carol would go in to work. Of course, Sophia could take the bus in the morning, but being driven to school by her mother had become a routine they both cherished.

"I cain't remember the last time I slept at night," Daryl mumbled, peering up at her from beneath his lashes as she dressed. Sighing, he let his gaze wander the room in search of his own clothes.

"Neither do I," Carol smiled sheepishly and what followed was a seemingly endless pause in which both stared at each other in confusion. "I … I have to go. I need to make sure everything is alright and … fetch my cell phone from my office," she explained, pointing unnecessarily towards the door. "Come on out when you're dressed, ok?"

Daryl nodded, a small smile blooming on his lips after Carol left the room, the door falling closed behind her with a quiet snick.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for the guest review! :)**

 **OOO**

The bar was empty. Only the faint sound of running water and the tinkle of glasses as they were rinsed could be heard as Carol stepped into the main room. As always, Beth was behind the bar, cleaning up while Morgan perched on a stool, drinking his last whiskey before closing.

"Did you sleep well? Apparently, you needed the rest," Morgan smiled mischievously at her in greeting.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know how that could've happened," Carol apologized despite there being no reason to do so. Thankfully, it didn't look as though her absence had caused any problems.

"Beth and I have everything under control," he assured her, smiling at the young woman as she wiped down the bar. Morgan reflexively lifted his glass and the girl took it from him with a proud grin.

"Thank you both, so much. Gawd, I'm relieved, but I have to get to my office … I have to call Sophia!" Morgan's gentle hand to her shoulder, however, made her pause.

"I've already talked to both her and Tara. She'll be taking Sophia to school," Morgan explained, smiling as he heard Carol's soft breath of relief. That quickly faded, his features pinching into a steely mask when he heard a door open and then saw a man hesitantly walking towards them. The sight of a client had him bristling, and he quickly gained his feet. "Who is this, and why is he here?" he fairly growled.

"That's Daryl. He's a … a client," she informed him, unintentionally moving her body between the two men as she watched Morgan tense, his posture combative. She wouldn't allow him to hurt Daryl if she could help it.

"You said she was alone!" Morgan snapped at Beth whose eyes widened immediately in shock as her face turned red.

"I ... I thought he left," the girl replied sheepishly.

"You _thought_?" he sneered, his eyes flashing hotly at the girl, his anger tantamount. "You _thought_ , but you didn't _see_ him leave?!"

"It's … it's alright … nothing happened," Carol explained, trying to defuse the situation. To use the rooms, the girls and their chosen clients would _have_ to pass the bar. It was the bartender's duty to take note of who used the rooms, but more importantly … when they returned. If more than an hour passed, Carol - or whoever was manning the bar - would check in on her girls to make sure they were alright. Beth had apparently missed that part of her training. The girl had always been pretty distracted, and had often not noticed the comings and goings. Carol had encouraged her to make notes, but this time Beth hadn't taken her advice, it seemed.

Carol simply hadn't thought about it, too overwhelmed with relief Sophia and Tara knew where she was, and Beth and Morgan had taken care of the bar. But the moment Morgan had mentioned Beth's mistake, she realized under different circumstances the mistake could have caused a disaster.

Morgan was right. Beth had exposed her - _all_ the women - to danger. It was important to Carol to offer safety to all the women who worked there. Luckily, it had been Daryl with whom she'd spent the night. It didn't occur to her at that moment to wonder why she trusted him so blindly.

There was always a danger of being alone in a room with clients, but with Daryl she simply hadn't felt a single spark of fear, not for a second. It had been standard, Carol had made sure he wouldn't do anything against her will, and there was absolutely no doubt in her mind he would ever hurt her … he just wasn't the type who would lay hands on a woman. She'd hadn't thought she'd really _needed_ to say this.

Morgan swiped a hand over his perspiring brow and glared at the blonde. "You left her vulnerable, Beth. How many times must you be told your duties?!" Morgan hissed furiously. Beth's gaze snapped over to Carol, looking for understanding and forgiveness in the woman's eyes, shame and guilt written all over her face.

When Beth didn't answer, Carol took a deep calming breath, trying to respond appropriately. "Did you check the other rooms? Are they empty?" she asked the young woman.

"They're empty," she promised desperately. "I cleaned all the rooms except the one you were in. I thought he'd left! I thought you were alone!" she pleaded.

Beth had cleaned the rooms while she and Daryl had slept? Carol fought to keep her shock from showing on her features. The two of them must've been in a coma not to have heard her.

Carol was secretly glad she and Daryl hadn't been disturbed, but the fact remained that the women's welfare was the most important thing. "Like I said, nothing happened. I'm fine," Carol said, her eyes wandering to Daryl where he stood listening, a shy look upon his face. He seemed more than a little uncomfortable with the situation. Once more, Carol focused on Beth. "But I have to make sure my girls are safe, and that someone is taking care of them. You haven't worked here long, but I'm sure you remember what I told you happened to Michonne, right?"

Beth nodded as she pressed her lips together, fighting the welling tears in her big clueless eyes.

Morgan visibly shuddered. "I saw what that man did to her," he growled through clenched teeth. He remembered the broken glass, the blood, her bruised and battered body … and the man yowling on the floor after she'd rammed the broken stem of the champagne flute through his eye. "I will never forget how broken she was as I carried her out of there. It happened despite the precautions we take for our girls!"

Carol nodded in agreement. "I can't tolerate this, Beth. I … I want you to take some vacation time. I need to think about how things will go for you from there. This isn't the first time you weren't paying attention. I have to be able to rely on you, and frankly, I don't know if I still can." As hard as it was to talk to the girl like that, it was necessary. Carol couldn't risk something like this happening again. Perhaps next time, they wouldn't be so lucky.

Beth's tears rolled down her flaming cheeks as she reached under the bar for her purse before looking up at her boss again, seemingly waiting again for a miracle. She didn't apologize, nor did she fight for her job. She didn't even beg Carol not to fire her. She was simply waiting for someone else to solve all her problems.

"Give me time to think about it," was all Carol said as she watched Beth round the bar and disappear out the door. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and turned to Morgan. "You should go too, Morgan. I'll lock up the bar," she told her friend and bouncer.

Morgan eyed the man next to her skeptically, not trusting Carol's positive gut feeling towards the man. "Sure, you're okay?"

"Yes, we still have to … settle his tab, and then he'll leave. It's okay." It was a reason, nothing more, to prompt Morgan to take his leave. She wanted to be alone with Daryl for just a little longer, payment the furthest thing from her mind after the wonderful night she'd spent in his arms.

"Take care of yourself!" Morgan still told her and hesitantly moved to the door before leaving the bar, a "You, too!" from Carol accompanying him out.

"I'm sorry you had to listen to this, I usually don't deal with that sort of thing this way," she explained to Daryl when the two were finally alone and he still looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

"Naw, it's a'right … he's right. It's important to take care of the women," Daryl admitted. When he'd come into the main room, his presence had caused all manner of hell to rain down on the little blonde bartender, but he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty for something which hadn't been his fault. The girl hadn't done her job, and the thought of Carol getting hurt because of it just made him angry. He was relieved Carol had been with him instead of some other man. The thought made the breath leave him, feeling as if he'd taken a sledgehammer to the chest … the idea of Carol with another man, his hands on her ivory skin as Daryl's own had been last night. His vision tinted red and he felt the uncontrollable desire to fucking hit something.

"I feel safe with you," Carol admitted sheepishly, trying to make him believe it had nothing to do with him as she stroked his shoulder reassuringly.

"Do ya need help here? I ... I could -" Although it was already morning and enough people were on the street, Daryl still didn't want to leave her alone.

"I just need to get my purse from the office, and then I'll close up. Our bed … the room we were in … I'll clean it up tonight," she replied, her heart warming at his offer to help.

"Okay, well -" He reached into the pocket of his vest and gave her the money with trembling hands, feeling absolutely stupid. It just didn't feel right. "Thanks ... thanks for ... that ya took time for me an' ... I will never forget that."

"Neither will I," she murmured, staring deeply into his warm blue eyes again. Her fingers closed over the money he held out to her, feeling a little electric thrill race over her skin as her fingers brushed his. They stared at each other for a long moment before they stammered their goodbyes and she watched him leave. The second the door closed, her soul formulated a silent plea which sent a piercing sting through her heart even as her mind scolded her for daring to hope. _Please come back!_

OOO

He made his way over to his bike, wondering idly what he should do with his day. Daryl had nearly forgotten how relaxing it was to sleep at night. He'd never felt as rested after sleeping the day away. He'd also never experienced anything as personal as sleeping with someone … never imagined he could feel comfortable with leaving himself vulnerable and defenseless to another person as he lost himself to slumber.

 _Sometimes, he could remember waking to the pain caused by his father's belt lashing his flesh. Other times, it was from the bright light battering his closed eyes as his face twisted with torment. Or the cold water, like a thousand pinpricks on his skin, but often it was just the loud, deep voice which roused him from sleep, always angry with a slur caused by whatever his old man had decided to imbibe in that night. He'd never understood what drove his father to do that. The man relished Daryl's suffering, wanting to follow and torture his son everywhere … in wakefulness, in sleep, and all stages in between._

 _"Yer such a pussy! If I wanted, I could kill ya with my bare hands, ya little wimp!"_

When he'd been thirteen and the old bastard had gone to jail, Daryl had finally been free to have a key to his room, and he'd never hesitated to use it - even when no one had been at home - until today.

He'd been vulnerable when he'd slept by her side, but with Carol he had felt safe, his body and soul relaxing. And she, too, had allowed herself to fall asleep next to a stranger, even though she usually never slept at night. Something had changed. Had _he_ changed?

He felt a contentment like he'd never in his life experienced. Yet, Carol had made that possible. He should feel pleased, but he was restless because instead of simply enjoying the encounter he'd had with her, he felt he'd left a part of himself behind at the bar. If he lacked the guts or the money to go back to her, he could still reach out to her mentally when the moon rose, knowing she was awake … sharing the night with her from afar.

Daryl drove in the direction of his new home, wracking his mind for answers which eluded him until he spotted a small bakery. He slowed and parked at the curb, killing the bike as he chuckled to himself. When was the last time he could remember eating breakfast? He came out with some pastries and a box of donuts - knowing Merle would pounce on him the second he opened the door - spotting a _Help Wanted_ sign in the window next door. Even from outside, the smell of wood rose to tickle his nose, causing him to remember just how much he loved working with his hands.

OOO

The house was empty when Carol came home, as it usually was when she drove Sophia to school. But this time it was different, because she hadn't seen her little girl this morning.

After moving in with Tara and Denise, Carol really hadn't had a choice but to quickly find a job to support herself and Sophia. It hadn't mattered if she'd have to work nights. It had been important to make time for her daughter in the afternoon's when Sophia returned from school, but working the graveyard shift also gave her the opportunity to flee her restless nights. It was a habit she'd formed during her ill-fated marriage.

At that time, while her daughter had slept soundly in her room, Carol hadn't been able to bear lying awake next to her husband. So, she had quietly sneaked around the house, restive and in search of salvation while the tension had seemed to burrow deeper into her bones. Her husband had been a ticking time bomb, but not when he'd slept. _He_ should've been the one lying awake, plagued by a guilty conscience. It had made her crazy. He'd beaten her exactly four times - a black eye, a split lip, two broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder - before the night she'd had enough, waking Sophia and disappearing into the night.

Now she was wide awake and sitting at her kitchen table, the coffee in front of her long since cold as she thought about the past. A sigh broke the silence, her thoughts already shifting to the man who'd shared a bed with her last night. She'd slept soundly beside him, actually _resting_ for the first time in years. He'd shared a closeness with her and then taken it with him when he'd left, as well as the hope of repetition.

What made him so different? Why had she enjoyed it so much? Was she so lonely and desperate she perhaps had interpreted too much from this man and what they'd shared? She needed to pull herself together and forget him. It would be too painful to allow herself to dream there could be more. Of course, Tara and Denise had supported her during the worst time of her life but she'd also fought hard to win her independence and regain her self-confidence. She refused to lose that again.


	6. Chapter 6

As Daryl strode into the bar, his heart sank when he didn't see Carol behind the counter. Although he was nearly sick with nerves, the yearning he had to see her refused to be denied. He had thought of little else for the past week, his new job a welcome distraction.

To his surprise, the store owner had actually hired him, though Daryl had no previous experience. The old habit of carving arrows for his crossbow in the past hadn't skilled him to be a furniture maker, but the man had apparently seen potential in him. The old man had watched him closely as Daryl had been given the task of assembling a drawer and then sanding the surface of a cabinet.

The pay wasn't high, but Daryl still lived rent free in his uncle's house. He'd spent days telling potential buyers' stories, so they would quickly lose interest in his _home._ He would loosen fixtures and tell them about strange noises during the night. He'd also told anyone interested the owner had died in the house and hadn't been found until weeks later in the living room. Daryl's stories had gotten wilder until Merle had found out and patted his brother on the back with amusement, a wide grin spread across his face. _"Looks like we're stayin', right, lil' brother? I already have a job and now so do you. Might as well settle in."_

His job paid more than minimum wage, but what he earned wasn't enough to visit Carol every week. But from time to time, it would be worth the wait, worth scrimping on snacks and his favorite soda if he could be with her again.

Daryl perched on one of the bar stools at the counter and watched a different blonde mix the drinks. She seemed more competent, and he was relieved to see the younger girl didn't seem to be working there anymore, but as his eyes searched for Carol, he became concerned when he didn't see her.

"Hey, I'm Andrea," the woman greeted him. "You're not new here, are you?"

Daryl shook his head, glancing once more over the patrons in the large room and their _dates_ for the evening, hoping he wouldn't see Carol among them. "Naw."

"I thought I'd seen you here before. Are you looking for someone special?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, well ... where is Carol?" he asked softly, sending a silent prayer she wasn't in one of the rooms with a client.

"She is in her office, doing paperwork," the blonde calmed him down. Andrea had watched them and even told Carol she shouldn't be so exaggerating with the sounds she made which had caught Andrea's ear when she'd passed the _couple's_ room that night. Carol had blushed a deep red within a fraction of a second, stammering an apology as Andrea had realized what had been going on in the room had been anything but staged.

"Okay, then I'll jus' wait for her to come back," Daryl replied, relieved.

Andrea nodded benevolently. "A beer to shorten the wait?"

"Sure!"

Just as the beer was set before him on the counter, Daryl sensed the presence of a woman beside him. He tensed even before he saw her in his periphery, discomfort flooding his entire being.

"Hey there, handsome. Why're you sitting here all by yourself when you could be having a drink with me?" A vivacious young woman with dark curly hair smiled at him, pressing her curves into his side. She exuded self-confidence, knowing exactly what she was doing, and Daryl had to force himself to remain seated, fighting his gut instinct which told him to run.

"I'm waitin' for someone." Daryl leaned away from the intrusive Latina. This and the expression on his face couldn't have been more defensive.

"Whoever you're waiting for … she's not here now," she purred seductively next to his ear, closing the distance between them as she trailed her hand along his thigh. "After spending time with me, you won't want anyone else."

This time, Daryl nearly toppled off his bar stool in his desperation to get away from the woman. She was a pushy little thing, and he couldn't remember ever being so uncomfortable in his life … which she apparently didn't even notice. His body language which radiated his distaste couldn't have been clearer, but she didn't seem the type who would take no for an answer. "Leave me alone, okay?"

"Come on, sugar … there's no need to play hard to get."

"Rosita, not every client is attracted to your certain brand of … charm," Andrea - who'd been struggling against her desire to intervene for the last several minutes - made clear. "He's waiting for Carol."

"Carol?" Rosita asked incredulously, rolling her eyes.

"Exactly … so keep your hands off my client!" Carol's irate voice suddenly hissed behind her, arms crossed over her chest.

A mixture of anticipation and relief flowed through Daryl's veins and he released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"I know you're good at your job, but just as I don't want my women being harassed here, I don't want my clients being harassed either," Carol clarified to a dumbstruck Rosita, who was staring down at the floor in embarrassment. Carol was going to have to pay more attention to the choice of her co-workers, she realized again. Her expression changed as she finally turned her attention to Daryl and a shy smile bloomed on her lips. "Shall we?"

Nodding, he moved to her side, immediately feeling drawn to her. A sizzling spark of awareness shot through his fingers as they wrapped around hers, not hesitating to pull her into his side. He brushed off the encounter with the other girl, excitement coursing through him. He couldn't wait to feel Carol's closeness again. It was odd being held by her. It made him feel free now that he'd stopped overthinking about why she so thoroughly captivated him.

She led him down the hallway, sharing shy smiles along the way. It felt so right, and again that familiar warmth which emanated from him, sent shockwaves of elation through her entire being, making her forget all the agonizing thoughts she'd suffered the past week.

Again, she chose the same room as the last time, but when the door closed behind them, everything was different than before. An almost inaudible whimper keened from her throat as he swept her into his arms, the solid weight of him pressing her back into the door as he buried his face against the crook of her neck, breathing her in. She trembled, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion battering her senses.

"You came back," she whispered as her fingertips ran through the soft strands of his hair, the warmth of his breath and the gentle touch of his fingers as they lifted her chin to meet his gaze chasing away the fear she'd harbored that she'd never see him again.

There was nothing shy about their kisses as they clung to one another. Pressed against him, Carol felt his physical desire hard against her belly where her own heated butterflies ran amok. Even before their bodies had made contact she had been able to feel the immeasurable warmth emanating from his mere presence, and now he would rob her of everything she had fought so hard for the last few years, bringing down those high walls which had never allowed anyone in and the control she'd needed to protect her from getting hurt. Everything was swept away by him.

"Why shouldn't I have come back?" Daryl asked as he reluctantly released her lips, breathing heavily. His pulse was dangerously fast, and it made him dizzy … _she_ made him dizzy.

"I thought ... I thought you only needed me for ..." Carol stared at him and tried to regulate her breathing. Why had he come back? She'd fulfilled her mission with taking his virginity, hadn't she?

"There're still so many things I wanna try," he whispered against her lips as he let his hands map out her smooth curves. Flowing from her neck to the swell of her breasts and over her stomach, his hand finally led to where he felt the seam of her underwear through the thin cocktail dress.

He looked at her in askance, recognizing the curiosity in her eyes and the small smile at the corner of her soft, kiss-swollen lips. Where his touch had conjured up traces of desire on her body, his mouth now followed that path as he ran his lips over the fabric.

Carol had guessed what he was up to, but when he actually fell to his knees and his hands disappeared under her dress, she felt her legs tremble. It was sheer torture, the way he slipped his hands over her thighs and how his lips felt on her mound through the thin layers. One of her hands was buried in his soft strands, while the other was almost desperately reaching for the hem of her dress, unsure if she should lift the fabric for him to give him better access. She'd never been this demanding before, hadn't even dared think about doing something like that.

Driven by her scent, his fingertips continued its journey. Only briefly, he came in contact with the delicate skin on the inside of her thighs, before he lost patience and hooked his fingers in the fabric of her underwear to pull it down her beautiful legs with a courageous grip, fighting with her stilettos in the end. A quick look in Carol's lust-filled eyes and the way she'd pulled the dress up had been enough, and the only permission he'd needed to go further.

Almost admiringly, his gaze swept over her, letting his fingertips glide over her mound before closing his eyes and breathing her in. unable to wait any longer, he dipped straight in, her scent blissfully assaulting his senses while the unique way she tasted made him feel as though he was high. Realizing how ready she already was, he sensed she needed him just as much as he needed her right now.

Daryl didn't know what he was doing as he used his tongue to explore the texture of her slippery folds. Remembering what his hands had already explored, he found the right spots and noticed the vibration of her body, as well as the desperate whimpers and uncontrolled moans which escaped her as his lips closed around the little nub and his tongue dared to tease the sensitive spot in the middle.

After desperately trying to find something to hold onto, Carol pushed her shoulders harder against the door, her back arching as he raised one slender leg to rest over his arm. Literally, she'd almost lost her footing. Her body opened further for him as she spread her legs wider, and her breath caught in her throat before she hissed the air through her teeth. His lips and tongue now played a quick game, called by the unbridled reactions of her body, sending hot addictive waves streaming through her whole being with each motion of his mouth on her.

Daryl became bolder, encouraged by the way the woman over him was losing control and let one of his fingers disappear into her slick tightness, her warm walls sucking him in, and he encouraged the rhythm her hips set. His other hand opened her folds even more, exposing her to give him better access to play the little nub with his tongue.

A hot shiver ran through her entire body and Carol didn't recognize her own voice as an almost animalistic groan escaped her. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she thought she would fall until she felt his strong hands tighten their grip on her ass.

"I got ya!" she heard him whisper breathlessly and she opened her eyes, the man on his knees gazing adoringly up at her as he steadied her.

"What the hell was that?" she smiled awkwardly as she gasped the words.

"I've been thinkin' about doin' that for a week," he blushed before kissing the inside of her thigh. With one move, she was back on her feet and pulling him up to her. The thought of kissing her made him hesitate for a brief moment before she took the lead and plundered his mouth hungrily, apparently not bothered by her own taste on his tongue.

The next moments were a hasty jumble of roaming hands and stumbling legs until Carol's back hit the mattress. Her hands went to his belt and the clink of the buckle sent another flood of heat and wetness to where she felt so incredibly empty now.

There between her pale legs was the most sensuous - but also the most dangerous - place Daryl had ever been. Her hand around his painfully hard cock was redemption and torture at the same time. He pulled the bodice of her dress down, so he could bury his face in the valley between her soft breasts while his hands roamed over her body.

His raw physical instinct almost overpowered him, but he broke away from her, his eyes frantically wandering to the condoms on the bedside table.

Clumsy hands fought with the protection before ultimately being successful, so Daryl was finally allowed to let his rock-hard cock sink into her. He groaned in pleasure, her own breathy little moan his answering reward, their noises mingling and filling the thick air around and between them even more.

Carol gasped as Daryl stilled above her, the heat which had built between them shifting into something much more intense, the feeling flowing between them through an invisible bond. He filled not only her body, but her soul, her heart, as well, and it made her eyes sting. She looked at him while she cupped his face in her trembling hands and he kissed her gently, swallowing the moan which escaped her.

When he finally moved, her hips raised to meet his thrust, their bodies merging in perfect sync. Soon, he couldn't ignore the demand of his desire, increasing the speed, his thrusts erratic as his cock left her body to plunge back into her welcoming sheath over and over again.

It wasn't until Carol had to close her eyes that they broke the eye-contact, but he still _saw_ her. Her entire body leaned against his hips, meeting every thrust, and she fell into the abyss until he followed her over the edge.

OOO

Daryl had been too eager, too hasty, but this woman just had a way about her which made it easy to lower his inhibitions. After he'd successfully buried his face between her legs while she'd been pressed against the door, and then attacked her on the bed, they'd calmed down. The two of them had been more than consensual with everything they'd done, and she'd obviously enjoyed it.

After they'd regained their breath, they'd explored further, slower and more deliberately than before, feeling the warmth of each other's skin after the last piece of clothing had fallen away.

Later, a woman had knocked on the door to make sure everything had been alright. Carol had sent her away and - as if they hadn't been interrupted - they'd returned to their own little universe as if nothing had broken their connection.

The hours had passed, and between body contact, breathless sighs, trembling bodies, and meaningful glances, they'd also shared words. It had felt so easy to talk to her. She'd told him how she'd gotten to Reno and he'd listened to her, every word from her a kiss on his soul, proof of her trust. What had always been hard for him had happened with her that night without him realizing it at first. Daryl had _talked_ to her without thinking, the words quiet but freely escaping him.

All the while she hadn't stopped touching him, always with one hand on his chest over his heart, or her fingertips running through his hair. She'd snorted, her nose wrinkling sweetly when he'd told her what Merle had pulled off to make Daryl come with him. _Maybe that wasn't so bad,_ she'd whispered and kissed him gently. _Not bad at all …_

He would've almost gotten lost in the beautiful memory of this night as he sat on his sofa, absently looking at the muted sitcom on the TV, but the doorbell startled him from his reverie. _Who the fuck?_ he swore grumpily as he approached the door and opened it.

"My brother ain't here ... probably workin'," Daryl greeted the older man who had rung the doorbell and inquired if Merle Dixon was at home.

Those who had been interested in the house hadn't shown up for a couple of weeks and there was no one who would visit them, which is why Daryl had been quite at a loss before hesitantly opening the door. The perplexity remained at the sight of the stranger as Daryl wondered what this man wanted from his brother.

"That's good. May I come inside?" the white-bearded man asked.

"He ain't here … told ya." Daryl didn't understand what the man wanted. "The house ain't for sale anymore if ya here 'cause -"

"I'm Hershel Greene," the elder held out his hand to Daryl. "And I want to talk to you about Daniel. He was a very good friend of mine."


	7. Chapter 7

"I didn't know him," Daryl admitted, "but yeah, come in." The stranger looked kind, but still, that hadn't been the reason Daryl had let the man into the house. He'd felt he owed it to the man who'd been so friendly to his uncle. Daryl didn't know anything about Daniel, so maybe, he could learn more about the man who'd completely turned Daryl's life upside down with the unexpected legacy.

"Do you like it here?" Hershel asked after thanking Daryl for the coffee he'd placed on the table before him. He could sense how nervous and unsure the younger man was, questions and skepticism - and what seemed to be a certain wariness - written all over his blushing face as he eyed him with a shy gaze. These eyes were so familiar to him, as well as Daryl's whole appearance and demeanor. It reminded him so much of his deceased friend.

"Yeah, it's a nice house an' ... my brother and I have decided to stay here. We already have jobs an' all," Daryl answered nervously.

"That's what Daniel wanted. He never wanted the house to be sold. Was it hard to leave everything in Georgia behind?"

"There wasn't much to leave behind." Daryl looked down, suddenly ashamed of what he was. Damn, he hadn't even taken a shower or changed after work. "I know, me an' my brother don't deserve it. We don't really fit in such a nice house in a decent neighborhood, but … we're tryin'. This here is a chance for us."

"You deserve everything, Daryl." Hershel looked him straight in the eye as he nodded confidentially. "And it's never too late to change and start a new life. That's what Daniel did back then, even if it wasn't entirely voluntarily."

"Why did he go so far away? It was like he didn't wanna have anythin' to do with his family ... well, if ya could call that a family," Daryl snorted bitterly.

Hershel took a deep breath, knowing what he was about to say would mean a lot. "Daniel had to go. He had no choice. He fell in love with a married woman, and she became pregnant. He wanted to go away with her and her older son, but her husband wouldn't let her go. From what Daniel told me about him, the man would've caused a lot of trouble. And Daniel wasn't sure if this woman really wanted to leave either, so he left but sent letters and parcels to this woman, who gave him a son, whom he unfortunately never met. Not even the birth certificate showed Daniel's name. It was like he'd never had a son. Sometimes, the woman would send him photos, and he kept the pictures as if they were his greatest treasure. At some point, he stopped receiving any more photos and letters, but he never forgot his son."

"Why are ya tellin' me this?" Daryl whispered as countless pieces of the puzzle in his head suddenly merged into a coherent image. He remembered his first crossbow, which he'd had to hide from his father and other presents from which his mother had never wanted to tell him where they'd come from. He'd sensed a few times his mother had wanted to tell him something before she'd changed her mind and tears had fallen which Daryl had never been able to explain.

"This woman was your mother, Daryl. He tried to stay in touch with her for a long time, but eventually, she didn't send anything anymore and the packages he sent came back. He tried to find you but without success. My daughter and I tried to find you, too, and we did, but by then it was too late. That's why you'd never met him."

His whole poor life had been a lie and the man he'd hated, even though he should've loved him, had never been his father? He still wore scars on his body and soul, which Daryl had thought he'd deserved. Useless, worthless, and the cecum of society; that had been what his old man had told him throughout his life, and Daryl had believed the man he'd thought of as his father, not knowing there had been another reason why the asshole had hated him so much. The blood burned his veins with anger and disappointment at the pain. He'd never met his real father and the regret he felt scorched his soul.

"Daryl, I can understand you're upset." Hershel wanted to put a comforting hand on Daryl's shoulder, but he turned away, fleeing from the touch.

"She should've gone with him. He would never have found us here!" Daryl snapped bitterly.

"He was worried about your mother, your brother and, of course, you. And he felt bad enough for having had an affair with his sister in law. He didn't want to steal his brother's wife," Hershel explained calmly. "Besides, he was never sure if your mother wanted to go with him at all. He didn't know if she loved him as much as he loved her. They never talked about that. He rarely talked about what was really going on ... he was a very quiet and shy person."

Shaking his head, Daryl ruffled his hair in perplexity. His life could've been so different, without pain and with a father who would've loved him instead of beating the crap out of him. His mother wouldn't have cried and drunk all the time and … she wouldn't have died so young.

But Daryl also thought of Daniel and how much he recognized himself in his father from what Hershel had told him about the man. Daniel had also been quiet, keeping everything to himself while letting others decide about his life. Daniel and his mother had never talked about their feelings for each other, and suddenly he thought of Carol and how she didn't know how much their time together meant to him, just as he didn't know what it meant to her. He still couldn't put a finger on what it was which drew him to her, but he sensed what they had was something very special, at least to him.

"You can start over here ... like Daniel did back then. When I look at you, I see him. You had so much in common." Hershel reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and put a few photos on the kitchen table. Daniel with Hershel, Daniel as an older man in front of a black Ford Mustang and Daniel as a younger man in a black suit, a bride in white beside him. "That was Martha, she knew everything. Unfortunately, the two weren't blessed with children."

A small smile reached Daryl's lips but remained silent. His father had built a new life, a good one, though it hadn't been perfect. Maybe he could do this, too. Daniel hadn't been a stupid redneck … and maybe Daryl wasn't either.

"He wanted to write you a letter, but he was already too weak at the end. But he told me everything you need to know and where he hid the key for the safe deposit box." Hershel took his wallet from his trouser pocket, opened it slowly and showed him a small key which he put onto the table in front of Daryl. "I don't know how much money there is, but he said it would be enough to pay your brother and have a good bit left over."

Daryl looked at the key, but instead of feeling blessed, he felt cheated, betrayed of a better life, and a real father.

This time, Daryl didn't flee from the touch as the old man comfortingly put his hand on his shoulder, and his words weren't the solution, but perhaps the way to get there. "We can't change what happened. The people who made decisions for you aren't there anymore. The future … your future … is entirely in your own hands."

OOO

"Mom, are you alright? Where are you?" Sophia asked as they sat in the living room, watching a movie while Tara and Denise were out for dinner. Carol would have to leave for work soon, and she'd spent most of the movie lost in her own head.

"I'm watching the movie. What else would I be doing, sweetie?" Carol replied, a nervous smile gracing her flushed face. Honestly, Carol didn't even know what the movie was about. Her thoughts were solely with Daryl and she wanted to slap herself for her own stupidity. Why couldn't she just stop thinking about him? It was a constant struggle against the feelings she'd never wanted to allow, and certainly not with a client. She was almost sure she had never felt that way before. She could almost hear Ed's sarcastic laughter, mocking her with a nasty expression on his ugly face. Carol, you are so stupid it hurts!

"You hate the movie, I know. You pick the next one, okay?" Sophia had no idea what was going on with her mother. Although, the two were so close, the girl still hadn't figured out what her mother had been pondering on for weeks.

"I think I'm just a little tired. I don't sleep well during the day." Again, Carol wanted to roll her eyes at herself. Daryl had messed up a lot. Since that first night with him, she was tired at work and found little sleep during the day. Thank you so much!

"Is it because of dad? Did he contact you again?" The worry on Sophia's freckled face grew.

"No, don't worry. He hasn't been in touch," Carol calmed her daughter.

"But you're still not over it, right? I mean, you are over him … but not over how it was with him. After all these years there's never been anyone else. Or did you just not tell me?" Sophia would be glad if her mother had someone, because often she sensed her mom was lonely despite her many friends.

Sophia was more than okay with the thought of another man at her mother's side, a fact she'd made clear to Carol numerous times, and the small smile on the girl's lips made this clear once more. Sophia knew her mother would never again let a man hurt her. What the girl also sensed was that Carol had let no man at all come closer, even though perhaps she'd wanted to.

"I have you, Tara and Denise, and my job," she replied as she tousled her daughter's hair, a gesture Sophia was almost too old for. Her eyes narrowed, but she couldn't help grinning at her mom. "What else could I possibly need right now?"

"I don't want a new father, don't get me wrong, but -"

"Maybe someday, when I'm ready and the right one comes along." However, the moment the words left Carol's mouth, she realized she might have already met the right one as her thoughts wandered back to Daryl, though the circumstances under which they'd met had been more than strange. She felt it couldn't go on like this and clarification needed to be made. Was he perhaps the one who was worthy to open her heart again … to try it?

OOO

This bed was Carol's safe haven, the place where she was closest to him. He'd come back and this time it had been no surprise. The way he'd said goodbye to her the last time had felt like a promise he would come back.

Again, the passion had been unrestrained when they'd reached the room, and again, it had become gentle and slow once the hottest flames had been extinguished. Whenever Carol thought he couldn't get any closer to her, another layer of trust and warmth flooded her heart, a sweet ache which scared her, and yet she couldn't get enough of it.

He'd been startled at first, wondering if she'd really wanted to do that, but she had given him no chance to doubt when she'd started using her mouth not only for kissing his lips. Her tongue and lips touching him there had set his entire body ablaze, another new experience whose mere memory would make him hard again later, longing for more when he wouldn't be with her anymore.

At first gently and then tightly her lips had encircled his throbbing hardness before she'd taken him deeper and deeper. Her azures had observed him from time to time, watching how the color of his steel-blue eyes had steadily grown darker as his pupils had widened until he'd closed his eyes in ecstasy.

Now she was lying on her stomach and yet cuddled up to him as he drew a map on her back with his fingertips, his body half covering hers protectively as he kissed her shoulder.

"Will I see you again next week?" she whispered as she realized they were running out of time, and they were about to leave the bed, the bed which had become their own little universe by now, safe and comfortable. As so often, they lay close together in the middle, as if the misery was lurking on the edges, the danger approaching as they would come closer to the ledge. She didn't want to leave the bed and yet wanted to know how it would be outside the bed with him … if they had a chance there.

"I don't know, I ... I'm running out of money. I can't come here as often anymore," he lied. The last few days, Daryl had considered how he could break the cycle. He now had enough money and could come here a few more times and pay for her time and closeness, but the more he'd thought about it, the more he'd realized this wasn't everything he wanted. But he had to make sure he wouldn't destroy what they had if he went too far. What if she didn't feel the same? So, he lied about the money, hoping to tease a reaction from her which could lead to more, outside the bed, even though he didn't know if it would work. All Daryl knew was he wanted to spend more time with her.

Carol couldn't hide her disappointment. Even the time between his last visits had been too long. How could she cope if these eternities would lengthen even more? "I'm here ... whenever you come back," she promised and then she moved, making him turn away so she could lay on her side. She wanted to look him in the eye.

"And I'll ... I'll come back," he replied, his voice stained with sadness.

Taking a deep breath, she knew her words wouldn't leave her mouth without consequences. "Do you pay me because you see me as a hooker, or because you ... because you want to spend time with me?" It had taken every ounce of her courage to ask him that, but she just had to know. All or nothing. If she had scared him, he wouldn't come back, but better a sad ending than a never-ending sadness every time he'd leave.

"Ya ain't ... gawd! That word ... that ain't you, not for me!" Panic crept into his body, his muscles tense as the truth gushed out of him. Did he fuck it up? But her tender hand, which slowly covered his cheek, calmed him immediately.

"Do you just want to have sex with me or do you want to spend time with me outside the bed?" It was exactly what she wanted to ask all the time, and the way she could read him at the moment, she knew he wanted to be asked.

"Everywhere ... hell! Not the sex, I mean -" a giggle reached his ears and her beautiful smile made his heart beat even faster. Her smiling lips covered his and the little distance which had built up during their weird conversation was broken.

"Do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow?" she asked after releasing his lips from their tender kiss.

He nodded but his expression was fraught with worry. "Ain't good at this stuff ... this dating thing. You'll have to teach me."

"I don't have to, just like I didn't have to teach you anything here," she replied with a mischievous grin.

"But I didn't have a clue. Ya taught me everythin'! I don't know if I can be what ya want ... what ya need, I -"

Before Daryl could say more, she smothered his words with her fingers covering his lips. "I didn't teach you anything. You discovered everything yourself. I just encouraged you to do what you feel and that's exactly what I want when we spend more time together. I want you to do what you feel. I don't want someone who's doing things because those things worked with other women, or because you think I'm expecting it. I want someone who is genuine, Daryl. I ... I like you the way you are!"

Daryl Dixon grinned like an idiot, but still couldn't believe his sorry ass would have a chance with her. "But, just remember ... I liked ya first!"

"That's why you came back!"

A teasing smirk curved his lips, but there was still a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "Are ya really sure this is what ya want?"

"Of course, I am! So ... tomorrow at eight?"

"Tomorrow at eight!"

He'd had nothing when he'd come to Nevada and now he had a house, a job he really liked, and a date with the most wonderful woman he'd ever met. If someone had told him a few weeks ago he would've called that person insane. For the first time, life had given him a royal flush and instead of being afraid he'd fuck it up, he allowed himself to be optimistic, taking the chance to make a better life.

 **OOO**

 **Chapter end notes: It was so much fun to write! Let me know what you think!**

 **Special thanks to CharlotteAshmore for her edit and for being so amazing!**


End file.
